


Muses

by ssrhpurgatory



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, F/M, intimacy through shared food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssrhpurgatory/pseuds/ssrhpurgatory
Summary: Alexander Hilbert (horrible 90s alias Karl Kelley) is faced with his attraction to his lab manager at a company event where they're both too drunk to realize how blatant the flirting is (or to remember most of it the next day).
Relationships: Alexander Hilbert/Original Female Character
Kudos: 1





	Muses

**Author's Note:**

> No, this is not in continuity with anything else I've written with these two. Yes, I have like 10 different things set in the 90s that are all like this. Hush.
> 
> Backdated to take it out of current search.

Dr. Karl Kelley sat through the presentation on the Muse-class ships, incredibly bored. It did not seem likely that he would ever be aboard one; although he had put together a proposal earlier that year for taking Decima research into space—with generous input from Rosemary, his lab manager—it sounded as if the Muses were meant for search and rescue operations and short-term reinforcement of preexisting structures.

Not that it could be said that there were Muses, plural. The last of the modules for the first prototype had just been launched into space earlier that week, and Calliope had been fully assembled and operational for just over a day. Still, Mr. Carter seemed to consider it a cause for celebration, or at the very least cause to pull all scientists and technicians who worked on Goddard’s main campus in for a mandatory evening of cheap cake, terrible hors d’oeuvres, too much champagne, and an extremely tedious slide show.

“And of course, thanks to Rosemary, who so _generously_ devoted her time this past month to getting the lab modules up to spec.”

The glasses around Karl were raised dutifully in a toast, and he followed suit mindlessly.Almost by instinct, his eyes sought out Rosemary, sitting at a table halfway across the banquet hall with the other lab managers. Karl had noticed her frequent absences from her office this past month, and, very atypically for Rosemary, a visible exhaustion in her when he did see her, but he had assumed that one of the other scientists she managed had required more of her time than usual.

Carter’s toast annoyed him. It had all the words that would go into a sincere toast, but the intonation implied that Rosemary’s contribution had not been all that generous.It had only been a servant giving her liege lord his due, after all, so the fact that Carterwas taking the time to thank her at all, _well_ , that was the true generosity.

Perhaps Karl was reading too much into the man’s tone of voice. He had only seen Rosemary and Carter interact a handful of times, after all. Perhaps Mr. Carter really did respect Rosemary’s expertise.

The glasses around him were raised in another toast, and Karl followed suit, wondering when this would end. Finally, after another two toasts to individuals Karl had never heard of, and a final one to Pryce, they were released from their tables with a “Now, I'm _sure_ you're all just _dying_ to socialize,” from Carter. The way the man said it made it sound like a command, and Karl suspected his own plan to slip off quietly now that the main event was over might not be the safest course of action. He sighed and resigned himself to piles of the mediocre hors d’oeuvres instead of dinner and an evening of being mostly ignored. At least there would be cake, he remembered, cheering a bit. Even cheap cake was still a novelty after the rationing he had lived through in Russia, and the heavily-decorated cake that had been set off to one side the buffet table when they had all entered had now been cut into neat little squares and set out on plates.

Karl made a beeline for it.

He apparently had not been the only person eying the cake; Rosemary appeared at his side as he was selecting a corner square with an excess of frosted embellishments. She was wearing a low-cut evening dress and looking even more delicious than the cake, at least in Karl’s estimation. And then she looked up at him with a tired smile, and all he could think was that she looked exhausted.

“Dr. Kelley! Hello.” Her voice was just as exhausted as her face.

“Er. Hello.” He held up the corner slice he'd just selected. “Would you care for cake?”

Rosemary made a face. “Not that slice, thank you. Which bit from the middle looks like it has the least amount of frosting?”

Karl looked the squares of cake over and spotted one at the back of the table that only had a tiny sliver of decoration on it. He snagged it and offered it up to Rosemary, and she gave him another tired smile.

“I think I'm going to go sit with this,” Rosemary said, eying the milling crowd. “Want to join me?” She glanced his way, almost nonchalantly, but something about the tone of her voice kept him from refusing, as he had initially intended to. She sounded tired, yes… but also as if she would genuinely enjoy his company.

He suspected she was just being friendly because she knew no one else would be.

That did not stop his heart from thumping wildly in his chest when she beamed at him for nodding yes.

He followed her back to her table and sat when she patted the chair at her side. A waiter provided them each with fresh glasses of champagne, and another appeared with a fresh fork for Karl a moment later. He had been eying the other forks at the table and wondering which had not been used yet.

He had been considering asking Rosemary if he could borrow hers when she was done.

Ah, a low way to get what he wanted, he thought. He had hoped that the strange, sharp sting of attraction that he felt for her would wear off, given time, but he had known her for nearly two years and it was just as present now as it had been when he had first come to Goddard. The only difference was that it had ceased to be a purely physical attraction long ago. Instead, he found himself slightly in awe of this strange, brilliant woman, who managed and supported scientists from a whole host of backgrounds, some so far from his own that he was not entirely certain _what_ they were working on. But if Rosemary’s interactions with him were anything to go by, she knew their work down to the last detail, as she did his.

Karl knew that he was only one among many for her, that she was in some sort of open relationship with Al Bennett, the ostensible head of security, but some small stubborn part of him still hoped that she felt this attraction too.

He had been hoping more than he ought to have been, these past few months. Rosemary had always been friendly, but lately it seemed as if she was going out of her way to be kind to him, to touch him. Nothing inappropriate or out of the way; small pats on the shoulder or hand, a momentary hand on his back as she negotiated around him in his lab, the brush of her arm against his as she read his progress on his latest report over his shoulder. Each time it happened, it took all of Karl’s willpower not to lean into these small touches, not to drink in the warmth of her body against his and to hope for more.

But if he let himself think about that, he would end up sitting here in silence, and she _had_ asked for company. The least he could do was try and provide her with some conversation.

“So,” Karl said, carefully scooping a fancy swirl of frosting off the top of his slice of cake. “This is project that has been keeping you away from lab complex, yes?”

“Aw, did you miss me?” Rosemary popped a forkful of cake into her mouth.

Karl realized he was staring a little too intently at her lips and snapped his attention back to the plate in front of him as he responded. “Miss your coming by to hover over me while I carry out basic tasks? Not at all.” _Intensely_ , his mind provided. He did not mind carrying out the more routine parts of his work in solitude, of course, but she was good at making them less boring, and she was always willing to step in and lend a hand if his lab techs had gone home for the day.

As usual, Rosemary seemed to hear the unspoken sentiment along with the words he had actually said and beamed at him. “How sweet.”

She reached over and patted him affectionately on the shoulder, and Karl realized that he'd unconsciously put himself to her right side, so that they would not interfere with one another's actions as they dug into their cake.

Karl snatched up the flute of champagne the waiter had brought and took a sip, and Rosemary did the same, leaning back in her chair, her eyes heavy-lidded and tired. He took a second sip of the champagne and almost choked on it when Rosemary set her champagne flute down and took another bite of her cake, letting the fork linger on her lips as she sucked all traces of the frosting from it.

Surely she wasn't doing it on purpose, was she? It was just her exhaustion and his mind’s unfortunate habit of latching on to anything remotely seductive where Rosemary was concerned.

The fork finally exited Rosemary’s mouth, traces of her red, red lipstick lingering on it, and she immediately scooped up another bite. “I don't usually go in for super-sweet things,” she said, shooting another of those tired little smiles his way, “But for some reason this cake seems to really be hitting the spot tonight.”

She repeated the maneuver with the fork and Karl took a third sip of champagne, watching in fascination. Finally, in desperation, he decided to turn the topic to work. “Was not aware that you were mechanical engineer as well as lab manager.”

Rosemary laughed. “Well, I’m not. But what I am an expert in is efficient lab set-ups. I’ll admit, it was a bit of a brain-teaser, working with all four walls for once, but I think I got it sorted.” She took a contemplative bite of cake, staring up at the ceiling as she did, then added, “I’m sure they’ll let me know if I got it wrong. They’re running a whole host of experiments while the Calliope’s still in Earth’s orbit for stress testing, just to make sure all the equipment we installed is up to spec.”

Karl considered his own lab, and the way Rosemary had sometimes paused what she was doing during his first few weeks on the job, when she had been required to occasionally serve as his lab tech. She would just stand there for a few minutes and watch as he moved between one task at the next, and at the time he had not thought to question it. And then, he had come in one morning during his fourth week at Goddard to find that half of the equipment in the lab had been rearranged, moved this way and that. He had gone to Rosemary to complain, but she had simply smiled and told him to take a week or so to get used to it and come back to her if something was not working out.

A week later, and tasks that had once involved executing a delicate dance around Rosemary or Aditi, his actual lab tech, had clear paths leading from one piece of machinery to the next, and he had understood.

“I suppose you are.” He cleared his throat. “An expert in efficient lab set-ups, that is. I am certain the tests will go splendidly.”

“I do hope so.”

They sat in silence, finishing off their slices of cake. Karl watched her as she ate, wishing he could find the words he wanted, wishing he knew how Rosemary would receive them if he said them. _I wish you were mine_ , he wanted to say. _I wish I had the right to take you home from here and cook you dinner, to tuck you up in bed and make sure you sleep properly for the first time all month._

Fortunately, Rosemary’s usual ability to read his mind seemed to be stymied by the fact that she had leaned back in her chair again and had shut her eyes.

“Are you all right?”

The corner of her mouth twitched up into a little smile. “It’s sweet of you to ask.”

“That was not an answer.”

Her eyes snapped open again, and Karl pulled back the hand he had considered setting against her arm. “I should probably eat more than a slice of cake. Anything else on that table look good?” Rosemary peered over her shoulder at the table that held the food, or at what was visible of it through the crowd of people still standing and mingling.

Karl shrugged. “There were some fancy cheeses?”

“Cheap ones, no doubt. Well, let me at them,” she said, making as if to push to her feet.

Karl put out a stilling hand. “Stay. You look exhausted. I will bring you a selection.”

“I’m perfectly all right—“

“You make certain that I am well taken care of. Let me for once do the same for you.”

Her eyes widened briefly, but all that she said in response was “Oh, all right.”

“Anything other than the cheeses?” he asked, standing up.

“A selection of the other nibblies, please. And some crackers? Oh, and another slice of cake!” She included the final item with a contrite look on her face which was surprisingly adorable. “I haven’t had a proper meal in weeks,” she added, clearly feeling the need to justify herself.

Karl found himself smiling down at her as he got to his feet. “Give me moment.”

It was a struggle to reach the table—people were still clustered around it, chatting—but Karl managed to gather up a selection of small nibbly things, many of which were unrecognizable. He at least tried for a proper balance of carbohydrates and protein. And then another slice of cake, though he was unable to find another piece as free of embellishment as the first one he had nabbed for her.

It was worth the annoyance of navigating that morass of people. Rosemary beamed up at him once more when he appeared with his offerings and set them on the table in front of her.

 _I wish I had the right to kiss you,_ his mind provided, staring down at that shining face.

This thought he suspected she did manage to read from his face, but if she had, she was not planning to comment on it. Instead she flushed a dark, rosy brown and cleared her throat, turning her attention to the plate he had set in front of her.

“You going to join me?” She reached past him to pat the seat of the chair he had been sitting in before, the side of her hand just brushing past his knees, and Karl took a startled step back, only a hasty grab for the back of his chair keeping him from overbalancing. Rosemary turned towards him once more, her eyes wide and worried. “Are you all right?”

“I just need to sit.” He shakily pulled out the chair and collapsed into it, propping his elbows against the side of the table as he plucked his glasses off his face with one hand and rubbed his forehead with the other.

“Headache?”

“I am fine,” he managed to mumble.

“Only I have painkillers,” Rosemary said, producing a small purse out of nowhere and digging a little tin out of it. “Ibuprofen or acetaminophen?”

He released his forehead and waved her off. “Neither, the way I have been drinking.”

“Ah. Right.” She stuck the tin back in the purse, which was then whisked back to wherever she had conjured it from. “Water, then.”

She half-turned in her seat and put up the hand closest to him in order to summon a waiter, and before he could think better of it, Karl snatched it up in his own. This time the wide-eye look he got from her was startled and a little cautious, he thought, if fuzzy with his glasses off. “I was a little dizzy,” he said, still holding her hand in his. “But I am fine now. And you should stop trying to distract yourself from seeing to your own needs by looking after me.”

She blushed and looked away from him again, tugging her hand free from his. “I just worry,” she said in a high, quavering voice. “You don’t look after yourself all that well, and I haven’t been around to pester you into going to the cafeteria for your meals.” And he had not taken the time to get to know anyone else well enough that they would drag him off to meals in her place, was an unspoken reminder, one he almost resented.

Karl suppressed a sigh and shoved his glasses back onto his face. She was probably correct to fault him for that. But people were difficult, and his work was simple, and he had so very much of the latter, enough to keep him busy for several lifetimes.

“We should both eat,” he said quietly, reaching out and nudging the edge of the plate he had brought her. “I thought this one looked interesting,” he added, picking up a piece of flaky pastry that seemed to have cheese melted on top and something savory oozing out the sides.

“Let me know how it tastes.” Rosemary scooped up what he thought had been a very small egg tart and bit into it. “Ah, mediocre quiche,” she said on a sigh.

Karl nibbled off a small corner and chewed. “I... ah. I am not certain what to make of this.” He frowned down at the piece of pastry and then offered it mutely to Rosemary, and found himself too startled to move when she leaned towards him and nibbled off a corner of the hors d’oeuvre while it was still in his hand.

She blinked several times as she chewed, clearly as confused by the experience as he was, and then washed it down with a swig of champagne. “That’s... that’s a pizza pocket.”

A truly horrifying microwaveable food Karl had eaten once and had sworn never to eat again, and which someone had, for some reason, managed to replicate the flavors of in the small savory in Karl’s hand. “But why?”

Rosemary shrugged. “You going to eat the rest?”

He shook his head and offered it to her again, but to his disappointment, this time she plucked it out of his fingers before putting it in her mouth.

Probably for the best. Having her almost touch him had made him jump; having her lean towards him had made him freeze. How would he have reacted to her lips against his fingers? His reaction to the thought of it was strong enough that he was suddenly grateful for those excessive toasts and all the alcohol they had poured down his throat; without them, he rather suspected that his need would make itself known to anyone who cared to look at him.

“Here, you can have the rest of this,” she said, offering up the half-moon of miniature quiche. Karl took it with a hand that he struggled to keep steady, in fingers that shook as he carried it to his mouth. It did not taste of anything but egg and bland pastry, but that did not stop him from holding it in his mouth for a moment, from pressing his tongue into the curve of the bite she had taken from it.

He chewed and swallowed only reluctantly.

They ate their way through the rest of the plate, Rosemary offering him the remains of whatever she did not like. And then, she moved on to the cake. Karl found himself almost incapable of breathing when she scooped off a blob of frosting with her fork and offered it to him.

“Here,” she said, the wobbly fork hovering near his mouth in her slightly unsteady grip. “I don’t like my frosting too thick.”

Karl leaned towards her and took the fork in his mouth, sliding his tongue along the tines, trembling at the intimacy of the moment. Rosemary retrieved her fork after a moment and picked up a napkin. “Whoops, sorry. You’ve got…” And then one of her hands was on his thigh, steadying her weight so that she could lean in close again and dab frosting away from the corner of his mouth.

She did not retreat after she was done wiping the frosting away. Just for a moment, it felt as if the event room melted away around them, as if it were just the two of them, face to face, close and intimate. Karl swallowed hard, incapable of looking away from her direct gaze, too much of a coward to do what he really wanted to do but imagining it all the same, his lips slanted against hers, the sweet taste of cake on their breath.

Her fingertips ghosted over his cheekbone. “You have such lovely eyes.”

As compliments went, it was not an effusive one, but it did not have to be to make an impact. Not when she was the first person to make it.

“Thank you,” he rasped out. “You have a beautiful mouth.” And then he blushed, realizing what had slipped out, unsurprising given how he had been fixating on her lips and what passed through them as the evening progressed. “Ah. I mean…”

She smiled, a bright, fake smile and finally, thankfully, she sat back in her chair. “Thank you,” she said back, a touch of bitterness to her voice.

 _“_ I did not mean—“

Rosemary held up a stilling hand and quirked an eyebrow at him, a silent but effective scold. “You wouldn’t be the first man to fixate on that.” Her teeth sank into her plush lower lip, something that often happened unconsciously when she was thinking intently but which seemed to have been done entirely to draw his eyes to her mouth once more. She let out a bitter little laugh and sat back in her chair with a sigh. “Well. I guess it’s good to know my physical appeal is still intact.”

“It is not just that.” More too-revealing words, slipping out before he could prevent them. “You are…”

A small twitch of that dangerous eyebrow of hers. “I am?”

“You are Rosemary Epps,” he said, not finding the words easily. “Yes, you…” he sighed. “You know you are attractive. Physically. But that is not why I am attracted.”

This got a dubious snort from Rosemary. “Please, tell me more,” she rasped, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“You…” but he could not put words to it, the way he felt every time he spoke to her.

“I’m a giant bitch, darling. Don’t pretend to like me.” And she leaned towards him again, a deliberate posturing that put her cleavage on display, though not so far that she needed to place her hand on his thigh again for support. “Just admit my body turns you on and you want to pound me six ways from Sunday. I might even take you up on it.”

Karl felt his eyes widen involuntarily. And he _was_ tempted. Oh, how he was tempted.

But instead, he shook his head. “I do not wish for sex if it means nothing to you.”

She had a troubled look on her face now. “Why not? I’d make it fun for you.”

“Because I _do_ like you.” He found himself letting out a little chuckle at the openly shocked expression on her face. “Giant bitch and all,” he added.

She blushed and turned her head away from him, reaching for her champagne flute and downing the rest of its contents. “I… I don’t know what to do with that,” she said quietly, staring down into the empty depths of the glass in her hand. Her eyes darted sideways and met his, and the blush, which had been fading, flared up again. “I don’t know how to make it work with someone I like,” she muttered down at the champagne flute.

Words that made Karl’s breath catch in his throat again, words that started an ache in his chest. Words that he would have to revisit at some later date, because right now, she was very drunk, and so was he.

He reached out cautiously and took the champagne flute from her hand, setting it on the table between them. “You should probably drink some water.”

She shot him a shy, sideways smile, so different from any smile he had ever received from her in the past. “I will if you do.”

And then, she shut her eyes, leaned back in her chair, and to his amusement—and chagrin—fell almost immediately asleep, a whispery little snore cutting the air between them.

Rosemary Epps woke up to a pounding headache and the sound of someone in her kitchen. She wondered briefly who she’d been drunk enough to drag home from last night’s little shindig, but the sight of a gigantic suit jacket dropped carelessly on top of her dresser answered that question for her.

It had to be Al.

The man himself appeared in the doorway to her bedroom a minute later, and grinned at her. “Aw, and here I was looking forward to needing to wake you up. You were dead drunk when I hauled you out of the event hall last night.”

“Shoo,” she rasped, wincing at the sound of his voice. “God, I feel manky.”

Al crossed the room to her side and offered up her robe. “C’mon. I’ve made coffee. And toast.”

“Which I doubt I’ll be able to eat at all.”

“Then let’s start with water and see how far we get.” Al levered her to her feet and herded her to the kitchen, with a brief stop in the bathroom along the way to empty her over-full bladder.

“How drunk was I?” she asked, sitting down at her kitchen table. Al offered her a cup of water and Rosemary took a cautious sip.

“Drunk enough to be flirting with your Russian.”

Rosemary almost spit a second sip of water out. “ _No_.”

“Oh yes. He might have flagged me down when you passed out, but the two of you were looking _quite_ cozy before that.”

“I don’t get that drunk. Not at company functions.”

“Yeah, well, you did last night.” Al sighed. “All those damn toasts. Don’t know why you didn’t do what I always do and ask for some sparkling cider instead.”

Because she hadn’t had time to relax for a month and had wanted a chance to let loose. Too loose, apparently. “Well, at least I didn’t get handsy.”

Al’s silence was conspicuous.

“Al. Tell me I didn’t grope the man.” She frowned, trying to remember the night. _Had_ she touched him inappropriately?

“Can’t tell you what I didn’t see,” Al said mildly.

“Oh, _god_.”

Al set a mug of coffee in front of her, next to the mostly-empty glass of water, and settled himself in her other kitchen chair. “The man was certainly looking at you like he wanted to eat you up.”

Rosemary cupped the mug in both hands and rolled her eyes. “He works in one of my labs, Al.”

“And he wants to work in something else of yours, is all I’m saying.”

“That’s a ridiculous euphemism.” She set the water to one side and took a sip of the coffee, making a face. “He… we… look, even if he were interested—“ she held up a stilling hand in Al’s direction, since he had looked about ready to interrupt “—and don’t give me that look, Albert Fitzwilliam Bennett, you aren’t the arbiter of whether or not someone’s actually attracted to someone else, and I don’t think he is—but even if he were interested, well…” She sighed.

Al looked suddenly solemn. “Hell. You _like_ him.”

“Yes.” Rosemary set the coffee back down and stared down into it, contemplative. “So even if working together didn’t make it complicated...”

Al gave her a wry little smile and reached across the table to pat her arm. “Sorry, Rosie.”

She found herself blinking very hard all of a sudden, the corners of her eyes prickling with tears. “Yes, well, I knew what it would be like when I started this job. And I know where my loyalties lie.” She let out a harsh little bark of laughter and shrugged Al’s hand off her arm, picking the coffee cup up again. “So don’t you worry about me.”

They sat in silence a little while, and then Al got up to refill her cup of water for her. “It might work out, even so,” he said as he set it back down.

Rosemary snorted. “You and I both know there’s no space for something like that here.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Al shrugged. “Hasn’t ever been something I’ve wanted. But you do, so might as well try it.”

Al’s concern would have been annoying enough on its own, but unfortunately, that was only the start. An hour later, she had barely had time to get herself settled in her office in the lab building when a knock interrupted her train of thought.

“Yes?”

Dr. Kelley opened the door just wide enough to slide inside and shut it behind him. “Rosemary.”

Rosemary raised an eyebrow. “You need something?”

“I…” he was staring at her, wide-eyed and strangely cautious as he approached her desk and sat across from her. “I think we need to talk.”

“About…?” When he remained silent at this prompt, she sighed. “You know how I feel about unexpected visitors in my office, Dr. Kelley.”

He jerked slightly, as if she had hit him. “About last night.”

Rosemary sighed. As much as she had been wracking her brain all morning, the last thing she remembered was Dr. Kelley bringing her a plate of nibblies and a second slice of cake. But if she had done something that he felt the need to hunt her down and talk about the day after, she suspected she owed the man a groveling apology. “Look, Dr. Kelley…. I was really drunk. I shouldn’t have been, but I was. I’ve been working full-tilt for months, and the past few weeks have been especially stressful, so if you could bring yourself to forget last night…”

A little frown formed between his nonexistent eyebrows. “How much do you remember from last night?”

Ah. Perhaps that would give her an out, if whatever she had done had embarrassed him sufficiently. He already looked as if he were clinging to some minuscule scrap of courage that was insufficient for the task of confronting her. “Not much.” And then, a sudden, horrifying mental image, of her hand high on his thigh, of his face an inch from her own. “I’m hoping the memory I have of groping your thigh is actually a nightmare,” she managed to get out without sounding anything less than cheery. “If it wasn’t, though, I should probably mention that I’d been aiming for your shoulder and drastically mis-judged my angles.” Not that she had any proof that she had been, but she might as well say the words, even if they were a lie.

Dr. Kelley’s frown spread from his eyebrows to his mouth. “Do you remember anything of what you said last night?”

“That isn’t an assertion that the thigh-groping incident only happened in my head, Dr. Kelley. Do I need to take myself off to HR for one of their workplace sexual harassment seminars?” Rosemary forced out a fake laugh. “Actually, I’m pretty sure HR was at the party, so maybe I’ll receive a summons.”

Dr. Kelley looked taken aback at this. “Any… physical contact which you may have initiated last night was… not entirely unwelcome,” he said, leaving Rosemary to wonder what vocabulary adjustments those pauses concealed.

God. _Had_ she actually groped him?

“Rosemary?” he prompted, and she realized she had been staring blankly at him, blushing, for an unnaturally long moment.

“Sorry. My mind was doing the mortification tango.”

He dismissed this with a little wave of his hand. “No need. I just… you really do not remember anything else from last night?”

She wracked her brain. Aside from that sudden, stark image of her hand on his thigh that had leapt unbidden into her brain, she couldn’t remember a single thing. “I’m afraid not.”

A brief storm of emotions wrenched its way across Dr. Kelley’s face before he managed to smooth it out into a studied sort of neutrality. “I see. I suppose we cannot discuss what you do not remember.”

“I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You know, if you want we could shift you to one of the other lab managers for all of your low-priority projects—”

“Absolutely not,” Dr. Kelley snapped, interrupting her. “You are better than any of them. I will not allow you to even contemplate such a change.”

Rosemary found herself smiling despite her current awkwardness. “What a compliment.”

Dr. Kelley’s eyes fixed on her mouth for a moment and his breath seemed to catch in his chest, then he met her eye and sighed. “I will leave you to your paperwork. Apologies for interrupting you.”

“Nonsense. I completely understand why you felt you had to,” Rosemary said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I only wish I could remember some of what got you worked up enough to beard the dragon in her den, as it were.”

Dr. Kelley had gotten to his feet and had turned towards the door, but he glanced back at her for a moment. “Beard the…dragon? English is such a peculiar language!” he exclaimed, and then he was out her door and on his way back to his lab.

Rosemary sighed herself and turned back to her paperwork. Well, that had worked itself out about as well as it could have. Hopefully they could put whatever had happened the night before behind them and work comfortably with one another once more.

And there was absolutely no reason for her to feel as unaccountably depressed as she did at the moment.


End file.
